


For Your Eyes Only

by GubraithianFire



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Pining Kirk, Star Trek: Into Darkness, T'hy'la, Trans Male Character, this is set after st:id
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GubraithianFire/pseuds/GubraithianFire
Summary: James Kirk had never tried to hide that he was trans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you thank you to Bee @[discosherlock](http://discosherlock.tumblr.com/) for betaing and soothing my insecurities. Love you! 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I am a trans boy, and what Jim experiences and how he refers to himself and how he feels are similar to the way I do. _But_ every trans man is different! Jim has gotten top surgery and hormone therapy, but not bottom surgery. Some trans men may get more surgery, some none, some no testosterone. Some may not enjoy the kinds of sex depicted in this fic or use different words to refer to their parts, though those aren’t really things you should be asking about someone unless it’s really, really relevant (e.g. you are having sex with them).
> 
> Well, enjoy!!
> 
> EDIT: although I don't identify as a trans boy anymore, all that I stated above is still valid.

James Kirk had never tried to hide that he was trans.

He never made it a secret when he met people, and slipped in jokes about being trans every now and then, always making everyone laugh.

His sexual life had never suffered because of this. Hell, it wasn’t the 21st century anymore! Humans (and aliens) were much more accepting, and no one really cared what you actually had in between in your legs.

So, with his flirty smile and bright blue eyes, it was easy for Jim to find a bed partner for the night. And no one was bothered upon discovering Jim’s scars under his pectorals, or the absence of an actual penis.

Everything was fine.

Except that it wasn’t.

Because, even though he wasn’t ashamed of who he was, there was one and only one person he was actually scared would discover he was trans.

And that was Spock.

Spock, who came from a highly logical planet, and probably found stupid and irrational that someone changed their gender.

Spock, with whom Jim might have been a more than a bit in love with.

It had all started the day Jim died.

It’s actually kind of weird how the whole “dying” thing changes your perception of life, and makes you realise what is important and what is not. And the most important thing to Jim Kirk was his first officer, who was watching him die from behind a glass.

“I want you to know why I couldn’t let you die. Why I went back for you.” Jim had whispered. He was ready to tell Spock.

“ _Because I’m in love with you_.”

But Spock had cut him off, his eyes filled with oh-so human tears, and had said, “Because you are my friend.”

So Jim had just lowered his gaze and pressed his hand against the cold glass. And Spock had copied the gesture. Then it was all black.

When Jim had woken up, Spock had been there. Bones told him he had been there the whole time. Jim couldn’t love him more if he tried.

And it hurt. God, did it hurt.

But Jim had to man up and accept that Spock was with Nyota, and didn’t want him that way. And Jim was trying. Really, he was.

And that was why now he found himself in this shithole of a bar, drowning his thoughts in the cheap alcohol. He needed to forget, even if only for a few hours, that Spock wasn’t, and would never be, his.

Suddenly, as he was checking out a pretty Human guy at his left, his communicator beeped.

He sighed. There went his chances to get laid tonight. “Kirk here.”

Scotty was on the other end of the line. “Good evening, sir. Just the weekly heads-up about the Enterprise. She will be ready in a month, give or take.”

Jim could barely suppress the buzz of excitement that ran through him at the news. It had been almost a year since the whole Khan mess, and the ship was _finally_ almost ready to fly again. Will they give them a five-year mission, Jim wondered? Oh God, he wished.

Jim cleared his throat. “Thank you, Scotty. See you soon.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Jim jumped out of his seat and out in the chilly air of November. He needed to tell Spock. Like, now. It was mandatory for high-grade officers to know each other’s addresses, so Jim hailed a cab and gave the driver Spock’s address.

Jim spent the whole ride twisting his hands in his lap. What if this was a bad idea?

Spock could be with Nyota, as it was late and the two might want some time alone. The thought was enough to make him feel sick.

 _Stop it, Jim_ , he scolded himself. Spock and Uhura were his friends, and he should be happy they were together. Not feel irrationally jealous and angry and miserable.

The cab came to a halt, and Jim climbed down, after paying for the ride. He looked up.

Spock lived in a very modern building, all glass and steel. The area was very trafficked, and Jim noticed there were many aliens going around their business.

Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell, which had a micro-camera on top of it.

“Jim?” Spock’s voice sounded surprised, and upon hearing it, Jim’s heart fluttered into his ribcage.

“Hey,” He replied and shit, he hadn’t even brought anything with him as a present.

“I come as a bringer of good news,” He continued, flashing a charming smile at the camera.

“Fourth floor, apartment B.”

Then the door buzzed open. Spock had sounded annoyed, Jim thought. Fuck, what if he really _was_ bothering him and Nyota?

 _Well, I’m here now, so let’s roll with it._ Jim took a deep breath and entered. In the hall, he looked for the lift, and punched the button for the fourth floor. Then he waited, the soft music playing in the background grating on his nerves.

When he got to the right floor, he immediately spotted apartment B. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes.

He knocked.

The door immediately opened, and a thunderous Uhura appeared.

_There, you see? You’ve interrupted them._

“Oh, sorry, if I knew I was-”

Nyota interrupted him. “I was just leaving.” Then she threw a murderous glance behind her and walked away.

Confused, Jim just stood there, staring after his lieutenant’s retreating back.

“Please Captain, do come in,” Spock’s voice reached his ears, detached as always.

But Jim, who knew him well (too well), could read how tired the Vulcan was.

“Is this a bad moment?” He asked, peering inside.

Spock was standing in the middle of a large living room, in his typical meditation robes.

His hair was perfectly combed as always.

“No, Captain, not at all.”

Unsure, Jim took a step forward and entered the house, closing the door behind himself.

“Hey there,” he tried to break the silence, awkwardly. “It’s hot in here.”

“Typical temperature you can find on Vulcan.” Spock shook his head. “Pardon me, _could_ find on Vulcan.”

Spock might not show it, but Jim sensed the pain in his words, and he was suddenly reminded of two very strong hands wrapped around his windpipe. The ghost pain was enough to make him clear his throat.

“I just passed by to tell you the Enterprise will be ready in a month or so, so we should celebrate.”

Spock arched one eyebrow, “Celebrate?”

“Yeah, let’s go out and have a pint. One month and we’ll be in space again!”

The idea had just occurred to Jim; that sounded like a good excuse to just show up at one’s doorstep.

“A pint?” Spock looked flabbergasted.

Jim let out a laugh. “Man, stop sounding like a broken record. Yeah, a pint.”

“Should I wear my… senior officer robes?”

Jim laughed again. “Just throw on a shirt and a pair of jeans.”

Spock’s cheeks coloured with a soft green hue. “I’m afraid I don’t own those.”

Jim tilted his head. “What would you wear on your planet?”

“This,” Spock said, gesturing with his hands at his tunic.

“Well, okay then, let’s go.”

 

\---

 

Jim ordered a shot of vodka, while Spock some Vulcan brandy. They sat at the counter, and clinked their glasses together.

“To the Enterprise!” Kirk exclaimed, and downed his glass.

Spock eyed his own warily, before taking a tentative sip. “To the Enterprise,” he repeated.

Jim grinned at him.

He didn’t know why he had fallen in love with Spock; the man was impossible, after all, but so was Jim. He thought that what had got to him about Spock was his profound way of feeling. Because, much as he hid it, the Vulcan felt so deeply that sometimes it scared Jim.

He could read his feelings in his dark brown eyes, so powerful and yet so well concealed. No one else seemed to notice.

Well, maybe Uhura.

“Can I taste your Vulcan brandy?” Jim asked, and Spock tilted his head.

“Please, Captain, go ahead.”

Jim took the glass in his hand and ogled the amber liquid in fascination. Then took a gulp.

“Shit, it’s disgusting!” He spluttered, giving back the glass to Spock.

A corner of Spock’s mouth lifted up in half a smile, which might as well have been a full on belly laugh.

“Weak human,” Spock grumbled.

“Did you just make a joke?”

Again, Spock’s cheeks coloured with jade.

“Oh, and stop calling me Captain. It’s just Jim when we are not in service.”

Spock nodded. “Okay. Jim.”

At the sound of his name being spoken by Spock’s mouth, Jim felt his heart leap in his chest.

 _I love you_ , he wanted to say.

“I’m knackered,” was what he said instead.

“You can stay and sleep on my couch.”

Jim furrowed his brow. “What?”

Spock pursed his lips. “My flat is much closer to this bar than yours, and you just stated you’re feeling tired. It’s only logical.”

Jim couldn’t sleep at Spock’s.

Since the whole come-back-from-the-dead thing, Jim was having nightmares. Bad ones.

He woke up almost every night drenched in sweat, screaming until his voice was hoarse. He dreamt of the darkness, of the endless darkness. He dreamt of Khan.

He dreamt of Spock, crying behind a glass.

Sometime he woke up crying his name, feeling he was never going to see him again.

Those night he cried himself to sleep, thinking that Spock would never ever belong to him.

No, he couldn’t sleep at Spock’s.

“Thank you for your offer, but I-”

“Of course, I understand.”

Spock sounded like his usual detached self, but Jim got how bitter and disappointed the Vulcan felt.

Jim didn’t want Spock to think that he didn’t want to spend time with him. Shit, fuck.

“You know what? I actually wouldn’t mind using your couch.”

Jim smiled softly at Spock’s half-surprised, half-pleased expression.

“Oh, okay.”

Jim paid for the both of them, claiming it was only fair; he was the one sleeping at Spock’s, in the end.

They exited the bar and walked close to each other through the deserted street.

Jim could feel Spock’s warmth emanating from him and spreading to Jim through their point of contact, where their elbows touched.

It was exhilarating.

Upon arriving at Spock’s flat, Jim immediately flopped on the couch, relishing in the hot climate.

“Do you need me to turn down the temperature a bit?” Spock asked, a blanket in his hands.

“No, don’t worry,” Jim smiled, taking the blanket from Spock’s hands.

“Well then, uhm, have a good night, Cap- _Jim_.” Spock blabbered, and Jim almost gaped at him after all that stuttering.

“ ‘Night Spock.”

Then Spock turned off the light and disappeared in his bedroom.

Jim sighed, and took off his shirt and trousers, so that he was just in his tank top and

boxer briefs. He lay on the couch and threw the blanket on himself.

What was he doing? Sleeping at Spock’s when he knew he could wake up at any given minute screaming his name.

It had been almost a year, and still the nightmares haunted him. Well, it didn’t help that he was always on his own, what with Bones away with his daughter and the whole crew busy with their families and Spock with Nyota.

While Jim was alone, utterly _alone_.

Sometimes he feared he would be alone his whole life.

He shook his head. _Those_ were the kind of thoughts that made you have nightmares.

Think positive. Think positive.

He fell asleep.

 

\---

 

Dark. Dark and lonely and cold and hot at the same time. Spock wasn’t there.

No, wait.

The feeling of glass under his fingers. A familiar face.

“Spock?” Jim murmured.

Then the face started sliding away.

“Spock! Spock!” Jim cried. He tried to run, but his legs were feeling like jelly, and he couldn’t do anything, anything…

Arms around him, holding him tight.

He started thrashing in the hold, trying to free himself, because he had to find Spock.

“Spock…”

“I’m here, stop shaking.”

Spock’s voice immediately calmed Jim down.

“Spock…”

“Jim.”

Jim opened his eyes and found that his first officer was holding him in arms, shushing his hysterical sobs, rocking him back and forth.

Still too terrified to feel ashamed, Jim turned in Spock’s arms and hid his face in the crook of the Vulcan’s neck.

“Stop shaking, please,” Spock pleaded, and for the first time Jim didn’t have to read the raw emotion dripping from his tone. It was evident.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and unwound himself from Spock’s hold, getting on his unsteady feet.

He started to shrug into his shirt and trousers, when Spock spoke again.

“Don’t leave.”

Jim stopped dead. He raised his head slowly, and looked straight at Spock.

The Vulcan looked desperate, one arm outstretched as though trying to reach him. It reminded Jim of when Spock had lost his mother, his face covered in dirt, his hand reaching for someone who could never go back to him.

It was that image that prevented Jim from just grabbing his leather jacket and flee the room.

“I won’t leave, okay,” he said, lifting his arms in a calming gesture. He found that he felt the need to reassure Spock he wasn’t going to abandon him.

Spock bit on his lower lip and got up. He walked closer to Jim and stood mere centimetres away from his face.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Spock, listen, I don’t think…”

“Jim, please.”

Jim sighed. Standing so close to Spock was intoxicating, it didn’t make him think, breathe… So he moved away and sat on the couch.

“I’m just…  Listen, since the day I came back to life I get these… nightmares, okay? It’s not a big deal, I’m a big boy, Spock.”

Spock sat beside Jim, his eyes trained on him. God, why did he look so vulnerable and so bloody _human_ in that moment?

“You know when you came here earlier, and you saw Nyota leave?”

Jim furrowed his brow. Where was this going?

He nodded.

“She was mad at me. She said I should start taking pills or seeing a doctor because I, too, have nightmares. Almost every night.”

Jim felt he could barely breathe. “About what?”

Spock blew some air out of his gritted teeth.

“You. Dying behind that glass while I’m sat on the other side unable to do anything.”

“My nightmares are also… about you. I dream I lose you,” Jim confessed.

“Jim,” Spock murmured, leaning forward. Dangerously forward.

As Spock’s lips ghosted over his, Jim found the voice to ask, “What about Uhura?”

Spock drew back and knitted his eyebrows. “What about her?”

Jim incredulous. “I… She’s your girlfriend, for heaven’s sake, I know you Vulcans cherish monogamy too.”

“Nyota and I haven’t been sentimentally involved for seven point four months, Jim,” Spock said pragmatically, arching his right eyebrow.

Jim gaped at him, “I’m… why? You seemed like you got along, lately.”

Spock crossed his arms on his chest, putting some space between him and Jim.

“Your death. That was when I… when I…” Spock squeezed his eyes shut and closed his hand in a fist.

“Say it,” Jim whispered, reaching out with his hand to touch Spock’s cheek. The Vulcan shook his head no, his eyes still not opening.

Jim decided to be the brave one.

“Do you know why I didn’t let you die, there in that volcano? Because even back then, hell, since the day I’ve met you, I have been in love with you. Even when I hated you, I loved you, Spock.”

Spock looked away, a soft hue of green colouring his neck.

“What I feel for you… it scares me, Jim,” Spock said, turning his head, his eyes full of such human tears Jim felt his heart ache for him.

“Spock… There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he murmured quietly, then held his two fingers up.

He knew how Vulcans kissed. He had seen an old bonded couple do it, while they were transferring the surviving Vulcans to New Vulcan.

They had just touched their first two fingers together and smiled. Uhura had explained to him what that meant.

Spock ogled the two fingers for a long, long moment. Then, he tentatively raised his fingers and touched Jim’s.

It was like pure electricity ran from Jim’s fingertips to his spine, and it tingled and sparkled and

it was just so… powerful.

“Wow,” Jim breathed, his eyes wide open.

“You can say that again,” Spock smiled softly, almost shy.

Spock wanted him. Spock wanted Jim as Jim wanted him. It was plain as day. And only now, Jim was realising it.

“Oh, come here,” Jim growled, and gripped Spock by his shoulders and kissed him.

Oh, God. _He_ _kissed him_.

And Spock kissed him back.

It was soft and new and tentative and sweet.

Then it was all clinking teeth and tongues and desperation and longing.

Jim attacked Spock’s tunic, trying to get it off him in any fucking way, but when Spock’s hands were at his trousers, Jim suddenly stopped.

“Wait,” he said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Spock tilted his head to the side, breathing heavily, looking delicious and ruffled and _debauched._

Jim took a deep breath. He could trust Spock. Because Spock was… Spock was his friend, his brother and now his soon-to-be lover. How could Jim not trust him with this?

Slowly, he took off his shirt, and gestured to his scars.

“I was actually scared to tell you but I trust you and..”

_Just bloody do it._

“I’m trans, Spock.”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”

Jim’s heart sank. He felt the need to cover up his scars and so he did, lifting his arms and crossing them on his naked chest.

“I… I thought you might not understand, I mean, you and your logic and-”

“Jim,” Spock halted his ramblings, “I merely failed to understand how you thought this would do anything but deepen my... admiration for you.”

Jim felt tears prickle in his eyes. He felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off him, and he could finally breathe.

“Spock…” was all Jim could say, and all that needed saying.

Spock leant forward and pressed his lips to Jim’s, firmly, just a peck. It quickly evolved into a full-on make out session, and quickly they were out of their clothes.

Jim had never felt self-conscious about his body; he liked the way he looked, and he knew other people did, too.

But right now, he was starting to feel some anxiety at the thought of Spock seeing him naked.

“Jim, there is absolutely no need to feel nervous,” Spock reassured, and lay on his back, dragging Jim down with him.

Jim splayed his hands on either sides of Spock’s face, and bent to kiss his cheek.

“What do you want to do, love?” 

At the endearment, Spock’s cheeks coloured of jade.  

“I don’t know, you decide,” he said, his voice a _basso profundo_ for how aroused he was.

A shiver of pleasure ran down Jim’s spine. He leant forward and started leaving a trail of kisses that led from Spock’s neck (where he sucked a visible, _very_ visible bruise) to his chest, to his belly, to the tip of his cock. It was lean and stood proudly against Spock’s belly, its colour a very dark shade of green.

Jim took it in his mouth, and sucked. Spock hissed, his hands balled into fists, his head thrown back in pleasure.

He kept bobbing his head, using his hand to stimulate Spock more. When he came up for air, he licked a wet trail up Spock’s length, then closed his lips around the head.

“Jim, I’m going to, I’m gonna…” Not even mere seconds later, Spock was coming, and Jim was swallowing all.

Jim heard Spock swear in Vulcan, and chuckled to himself. He was good at sucking cock, he had always been told.

He gave Spock a few seconds to recover, then he lay with his back on the other end of the couch and exclaimed, “My turn now.”

He heard Spock huff a small laugh, then the Vulcan was crawling over him to kiss him deeply, fondly.

“Well then, go on, suck me,” Jim joked, and saw Spock lift one corner of his mouth in a half-smile.

“Aye, Captain.”

Jim laughed out loud as Spock scooped down his body. He took Jim’s legs and wrapped them around his shoulders, then took Jim’s small cock in his mouth.

Jim was proud of his cock; after years of hormones, it was about two inches long.

He loved how Spock just took it in his mouth, how he swiveled his tongue around and just made him feel so _good_.

Spock’s hands came up to touch Jim’s torso, his tongue still doing its tricks around Jim’s cock.

“Fuck love, you’re so good…” Jim moaned. He rolled his hips, seeking pleasure, and he felt a tingling warmth spread from his curled toes to his light-feeling  head.

The orgasm hit him in the solar plexus, and he came in a blinding wave of white, his thighs trembling.

“Fuck, Spock,” he choked out.

Spock crawled over him once again.

“T’hy’la,” he murmured against his lips.

Jim furrowed his brow.

“What’s that?”

Spock rubbed his nose against Jim's. “That’s you and me. T’hy’la.”

Then Spock held his two fingers up, and Jim touched their fingertips together.

“T’hy’la,” he repeated, leaning up to kiss Spock’s nose.

Perhaps, Jim Kirk _wasn’t_ destined to be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3am I'm dyingé. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, leave a comment! 
> 
> Find me @[caspu](http://caspu.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!! <3


End file.
